Power
by Luna Jose
Summary: Flashback to "Hot and Bothered" only the power never comes back on.  Andy can't believe she's really doing this.  Maybe she's not.


AN: So this just sorta came to me. FYI if you didn't notice, this is rated M. It is rated that for a reason. So all ya little kiddies can go somewhere else :)

Prompt: Power  
>Count: 1, 083<p>

Disclaimer: We all know as much as I wish it, Rookie Blue isn't mine. :(

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><p>The sky is dark, and so is the half the city. Only the streets were alight with summer parties, refreshing drinks, and candlelight. She passes by laughing children with sparklers. Her hands feel light and airy without the weight of the gun, but her heart is heavy.<p>

Today, she killed a man. Today with her own two hands, she held a gun, pulled the trigger, and ended a man's life. She conveniently forgets what he did to those young girls, how he took them, locked them up to die.

The heat keeps it hard to keep her eyes open, but she doesn't want to blink, because if she does, his face appears. His body flat upon the concrete ground, three bullet holes in his chest, hollow eyes staring up at her.

The houses begin to look familiar and she almost stumbles. She didn't mean to come here- or maybe she did, she doesn't know- but either way she's here already. Her feet pick up the pace, her eyes quickly scanning for his familiar address.

She pauses at his doorstep, but Luke's words echo in her mind, telling her how eventually she'll get over it; eventually she won't even blink in the face of death. It's those words that push her up the step, that push her to knock. Because right now all she needs is Sam telling her that she will never get used to taking a life; she needs to hear that it will always bother her, because right now, that will comfort her the most.

The flashlight reflects of the window and he opens the door.

He's wearing a black t-shirt and sweats that hang low on his hips. His dark hair is a mess, but to her, he is only appears incredibly sexy.

As usual, she doesn't want to be a bother. "Are you alone?" She's looking past him, praying he is.

He looks behind him, even as he answers, as if to double check. "Yeah." They stand there for a millisecond longer. "You wanna talk?"

A sudden urge comes over her, almost knocking her over with its intensity. She steps into his house, backing him to the wall. She answers briefly in the negative before kissing him soundly.

It doesn't take long for him to respond and he closes the door behind her. His mouth plunders her, taking freely what she offers.

They stumble down the hall, only stopping as they become lost in each other, before taking off again in the direction of his bed.

She can't remember anything more than the touch of his hands, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body against hers, and suddenly they're in his bedroom.

The candlelight registers in the back of her mind, but the rest is a haze, only interrupted with the taste that is purely Sam.

She rolls up his shirt; he only pulls away at the last second for her to yank it off and toss it somewhere over his head, before his mouth is back on hers.

Somehow her shirt is on the floor beside his, and he lifts her up to wrap her legs around his waist. The friction further ignites the rapidly growing spark between them.

The feel of his hand registers on her back as he gently lowers her to the bed. His mouth is gone, and instead he places open mouthed kisses along the column of her neck.

Her hands travel over the taut muscles of his abdomen, over his sturdy shoulders, to feel the smooth plain of his back.

His weight is gone as he hurries to kick off his sweats at the same time she unbuttons her jeans and struggles to push them down. The instant he returns though, his hands cover hers, calmly helping her frantic actions.

She's seen him down to his underwear before, but this is the first time he's seen her like this. She allows him a second, before pulling him down, sighing as his weight settles atop her.

He pulls her up to lean back on her elbows, and never breaking eye contact, slowly removes her bra. The image of her lying there on his bed, bare breasted- one he'll dream about for sure- almost does him in; he lovingly kisses the top of each breast, indulging her as she leans forward for a kiss.

She lifts her butt off the bed long enough for him to pull down her panties.

He settles between her legs, and strategically placing one arm to remove some of his weight from her, enters her in one smooth stroke. She's tight, more so than he ever imagined, so he gives her a minute to adjust.

He's big. He stretches her just so that she suddenly feels complete. It is this feeling- in which all previous circumstances she lacked- that adds to the fact of how perfect this is, being with him.

As he picks up speed, she clutches to him, blunt nails digging into his back. She wants to watch him, but her eyes continue to drift closed in passion.

Their moans of ecstasy fall on deaf ears and they quickly approach the pinnacle of pleasure. There is a familiar tightening of a spring that soon snaps, sending both spiraling down.

His arms give out, but he rolls away so as not to let all of his weight land on her. They both breathe heavily, almost as if in sync.

Sleep finds them at last, curled into each other's arms.

(.*.)

Andy snaps awake, a heavy blush extending beneath her clothes. She looks across the squad to see Sam staring at her strangely, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Nice dreams?"

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><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


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